


Terms and Conditions

by iamee



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Barebacking, Bisexual Male Character, First Time, Glove Kink, HARVEY NO, Humor, Idiots in Love, Look They Said the Title, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mike Is Hot - No Really Though, Mike is a Puppy, Mild D/s, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Stripping, Take That No Homo, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamee/pseuds/iamee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey may or may not have the best reward system ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terms and Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> In my head this is now part of a series focused on temperature, ridiculous conversations, and Mike's fondness of Harvey's cock. Because apparently that's how I roll.
> 
> Seriously though, I've only started catching up with later episodes, so bear with me. And have some cracky porn meanwhile.

**Terms and Conditions**

 

"Why aren't you at work?" Harvey says instead of 'hello' like any decent person. Because Harvey isn't a decent person.

"Why do you look like a Russian pimp?" Mike asks back because Mike never claimed to be a decent person in the first place. And even if the whole comment is – yeah sorry but not sorry – exaggerated to the max since Russian pimps would probably sport more fur, he feels entitled to an answer, so he crosses his arms.

Harvey raises an eyebrow before he says very pointedly: "The storm, Mike." As if Mike's a bit slow and oh, he forgot about the storm. 

"The heating is broken." 

Yes it is, and Mike's flat has currently turned into the surface of the sun, which is why he's wearing loose sweats and a wide shirt, and he's still too warm.  
Harvey looks like he's about to point out a broken heating would turn this whole scenario into Oliver Twist, giving the current weather situation, but Mike is tired of being slow in front of Russian pimp wannabes in his own doorway so he lets Harvey enter.

"It's broken the wrong way."

"Ah." Harvey says non-committal.

"Work." Harvey reminds him once they're in the living room which takes precisely five more seconds from the door, and thirty with closed eyes. It's not like Mike gets bored sometimes. They stare at each other for a moment.

"Harvey, I don't work today."

Harvey crosses his arms and manages to make it look like sweating is something you control with your willpower. Not that Mike is impressed. Or surprised. Or a tiny bit turned on. Huh, wait what?

"Any particular reason?"

"Plenty!" Mike clears his throat and starts counting them on his fingers. "It's Christmas." Harvey's eyebrow goes up higher. "And the 4th of July. Easter. My birthday." Harvey doesn't move and he gives up. "It's Sunday, Harvey. Sunday. Plus, you know, the storm." 

"I'm glad we've established you know what day it is, Mike. We can work with that. Now go take a shower, we're meeting the Orsons in an hour."

Mike gapes. Then he stops.

"No."

"No?"

"This is my first free day in a million years and yeah, no."

"Excuse me, I'm having trouble hearing you over the sound of you being fired."

"Yeah that," Mike flops down on the couch and grimaces. "That stopped being intimidating a while ago. Because we both know you need me, man."

Harvey's eyebrow disappears somewhere in his ridiculous hair which doesn't scream for Mike to run his fingers through it and mess it up. Nope, not at all. God, he's so warm.

"After you stopped fanning yourself, would you be so kind to put on some clothes, so I don't have to kick your ass into a meeting?" 

"My ass is very happy where it is."

"Mike."

"Harvey."

There is a pause and then Harvey uncrosses his arms and smiles. That's when it finally dawns on Mike that he's in deep deep shit. He swallows. And then again.

"How about a transaction?" Harvey says in the smoothest voice, his tongue wetting his bottom lip after the last syllable and Mike is screwed.

"You mean like: 'come with me and I might not throw you out of the moving limo'? That's very Batman villain, Harvey."

Harvey settles on the armrest of Mike's couch and tilts his head: "I was more thinking about something along the lines of: 'you be good and there's an instant reward'."

Mike tries to use his voice, but it's not really working: "Like World of Warcraft?"

Harvey doesn't even bat an eyelid: "Like 'you show me yours, I show you mine'."

"Could you be more cliché?" Mike says in a way that would be dismissive if it weren't for barley controlled heavy breathing. Holy fuck. Just. Fuck.

"You start." Harvey says and nods at Mike's outfit. "I believe in order to take a shower you need to remove these items." He has the audacity to look innocent. "I'm sorry if I'm messing up your world view with that."

"You are..." Mike starts and closes his mouth. He looks at the floor and then his hands curl around the hem of his shirt and he pulls it over his head. He should probably be thankful he wasn't only in boxers when Harvey made his appearance.

"Your turn."

Harvey shrugs off his coat and Mike immediately realises the flaw in this system because Harvey is wearing a three-piece suit and that's more than his remaining pants and boxers. That dick.

"Not fair."

"Oh I'll make it fair." Harvey says and somehow Mike doesn't doubt that as he shuffles out of his pants.

Harvey takes off a glove. No mind you, he takes it off like it's stripping, slowly, with emphasis, finger by finger, removing dark leather and Mike's mouth turns into the Sahara.

"I fucking hate you."

"No you don't."

"Yeah, you're right. All this aggressive energy you're feeling actually comes from a place of deep, fundamental affection."

"You're so cute when you're using big words."

"First of all: screw you, and secondly: fundamental isn't a big word."

"It kinda is though."

"Ugh," Mike says maturely and gets up, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxers and his gaze slipping over Harvey's form.

"You're not going to uhm, turn around?"

"What are you? Twelve?"

"No, but thanks for that. I really needed this situation to feel more wrong."

The corner of Harvey's mouth twitches into a smile: "I was under the impression you had read the terms and conditions."

Mike utters a sigh, starts pushing down the boxers: "My life should be an anti-drug commercial."

"On the contrary," Harvey says and Mike stops, thumbnails digging into his hipbones. 

Mike stares until Harvey makes a hand gesture that roughly translates to 'show me the goods' and he complies without thinking.

"But yeah, drugs are really bad and all that." Harvey says, his tongue flickering over his lips again as Mike shimmies out of his boxers, pretending his face is not heating under Harvey's gaze.

"Take a picture it'll last longer?"

"Mike, it's not nearly as effective when it's a question."

"Just strip, would you?"

Blood rushes everywhere when the sentence tumbles over his tongue and Mike does mean _everywhere_. Harvey just smiles and slips out of his shoes and takes off his socks.

"Wow," Mike says dryly. "You really did mean you'd be fair about this."

"There's no fun in an unfair victory."

Mike licks his lips, mimicking Harvey before he can stop, and he's not sure he's imagining the dark flicker in his eyes.

"The shower, Mike."

Every step through his living room is measured, he's carefully avoiding to look at Harvey because the humiliation should be enough, right? Yes, humiliation and not a turn-on. His body isn't even listening to him. Great, just great.  
He pretends he doesn't hear Harvey's footsteps behind him in the bathroom or feel his breath on his neck when he turns on the shower. Because that's just crazy. The breath-thing, because Harvey very much is in the bathroom with him. Mike blinks and steps into the shower. He could swear he can hear Harvey take off his waistcoat even over the rushing of the water. The rich pop of every undone button. Mike's heart is pounding in his ears and he thinks of things that aren't sexy. Like mold. Or Louis. Or rats. Or Harvey getting naked in his flat - dammit!  
He hurries more than he usually would, blindly grabs for a towel when he gets out, and by then Harvey's gone back to the living room, sitting on the couch. He takes off his scarf when Mike enters.

"Just admit that you're close to having a heat stroke."

"Is that how you'll talk to people in court from now on? 'Just admit you took the money to Switzerland'? I'm so proud of your progress, Mike."

Mike finishes drying off his hair and tosses the towel on the floor. 

"And now?"

Harvey leans back against the couch, arms spread over the backrest like he owns the fucking place. I hate you, Mike thinks. His dick twitches under the towel. It's a shame they can never agree on anything.

"Now you'll tell me all about the Orson file, in order to convince me to hire you back." 

"That wasn't a joke?" Mike rolls his eyes. "If I'm fired I really want to stay in. There's a Law and Order marathon on and---"

"Mike."

"Okay _okay_ ," he utters a sigh. "Glen and Susan Orson. Upcoming divorce, both shareholders. Neither wants the firm because it's going bankrupt and _what the hell are you doing_?"

Harvey has moved one arm and he's unbuttoning his shirt, eyes still on Mike.

"Terms and conditions, Mike. Transaction is still on."

"You are so weird."

"I'm also still. Your. Boss." Harvey says in a soft, low voice and Mike grips the towel more tightly, his chest lifting and lowering heavily. Where the fuck did all the oxygen go? 

Finally Harvey is done and he leans forward, the shirt slipping from his shoulders and on the couch and Mike crunches a whimper between his lips because he's fairly sure that wouldn't help with Harvey's smug expression.

"Go on." Harvey says and leans back again, chest golden and so so touchable in the glow of the Mike's desk lamp. He kept on the tie.

Mike takes a breath, eyes directed to the ceiling. Not like he's nervous because he's not, but he sort of needs his blood upstairs and not between his legs where his dick apparently harbours a lot of deep fundamental affection for Harvey after all.

"Mrs Orson is going to tell us her husband was the one to founded the whole thing and Mr Orson will be very convincing about a certain anniversary gift that makes Susan the more important shareholder." Mike stops to look back at Harvey who watches him like he's a mildly interesting documentary on newborn giraffes. He's probably just projecting.  
"They'll both talk to other lawyers without telling us, that is, assuming they haven't already. They're both pretty keen on winning this."

Harvey reaches up and loosens his tie slightly. The fabric on bare skin should perhaps not make Mike's finger itch in need to touch.

"Aren't you going to... you know?"

Harvey smiles, hands resuming their position: "I thought you might like to." He tilts his head, eyes not leaving Mike for a second. "Since you did so well."

This is all a dream, right? He's having a weird, porny dream about Harvey because his flat is overheated and he's dying and there's a snow storm coming tonight. Mike is strangely okay with this.

"Sure," he steps to the couch, closer, closer and... Harvey spreads his legs. There's a small sound spilling from Mike's lip but Harvey doesn't comment. Instead he bares his throat, making it easier for Mike to reach out and tug at the knot. His fingers brush Harvey's skin and blood rushes in him like it's going to boil. Oh fuckfuckfuck.

"Good boy." Harvey says and Mike's fingers shake when he drops the tie but then there's a hand around his wrist and Harvey pulls him in until he has to slip on his lap, their thighs squeezed together, separated by nothing but Harvey's suit pants and the –

"Lose the towel." Harvey purrs into his ear and Mike flat out moans because he's really really not a decent person, but neither is Harvey and it turns out that's a great combination. So he does.  
He's naked in Harvey's lap. He's naked in Harvey's lap. He's pretty sure he can't stress this fact enough. Harvey's hands run over his thighs, his sides, barely touching but enough to make Mike's breath hitch and stare at Harvey when he manages to pull back slightly.

"Is this your idea of pep talk? Because I've got a few complaints."

"Oh do you?" Harvey's hands slide down to cup his ass, grind them together and Mike really didn't need a reminder that he's painfully hard already. At least Harvey's getting there too.

"Lube, condoms." Harvey says in the most conversational tone and Mike should be embarrassed about how quickly he's on his feet, in the bedroom and back, he should be, but he really fucking isn't.

Not like Harvey is paying much attention to either of the things Mike drops on the couch, instead he pulls Mike back on his lap and brushes his lips over his jaw, his chin, his throat, all the while his hands keep exploring Mike's ass like it's the goddamn moon landing.  
He tells Harvey as much, but it only gets him a snort against his collarbone, more fleeting kisses down his chest, and then there's a tongue on his nipple, followed by teeth and Mike nearly topples over backwards.

"Harvey!"

There's a satisfied growl and Harvey's hands leave him to take his own and direct them to his zipper.  
Mike raises an eyebrow.

"Really? I call your name and I get a reward?"

Harvey pulls back, teeth still around Mike's nipple and it's an achingly good half-second until he lets go and Mike can breathe. Sort of.

"That's for the lube." Harvey leans in, their lips brushing together for something that feels too chaste for what the rests of their bodies are doing. "And you're dribbling, puppy."

There is absolutely no comment for that except for rubbing himself over Harvey's expensive suit pants while simultaneously trying to get him out of said pants. It involves some shuffling and lifting and a miscalculated second where their noses bump together, but eventually Harvey's in nothing but boxers. And a glove. Mike should question his life choices, his general attitude and probably the level of professionalism in dealing with his boss that he's displaying right now, but who the fuck cares? 

"Mmm," Harvey says as he pours lube on his fingers and Mike has known him for long enough to decipher that tone.

"Listen, Richie Rich, if you want more pricey stuff you better bring your own lube the next time."

The last three words hang in the air between them for a moment and then Harvey pushes his hand underneath Mike who helpfully lifts his hips, teeth buried in his bottom lip. Rookie mistake. Assuming there'll be a next time when they haven't even started this time.  
Mike shudders from the coldness at his hole, the press of one, two fingers.

"Next time I won't use any, just to see how long it'll take you to stop limping around the office."

Mike's eyes, previously half-closed, fly wide open and he stares at Harvey. It's a joke, right? A jo-OHfff

Harvey breaches him, causing Mike's mouth to open too, hands reaching up to curl around Harvey's shoulders for leverage. Fuck.

"Fuck." Mike says, which is impressive because he didn't know he could talk without breathing.

There are two fingers inside Mike and every time he moves he drives them deeper into his body. And Harvey... Harvey is sort of just sitting there, splayed out under him, sometimes pushing his hips up lazily so Mike bounces on his fingers and utters a curse. This seems to be going on for hours. It's probably closer to five minutes. 

"You alright?" Harvey's asks, cupping Mike's chin with a gloved hand and the leather creaks softly. 

"I'm... fine." 

The fucking lube feels weird inside, but he'd rather bite off his tongue than tell Harvey he was right.  
"Good, because there's still something I need you to do so we can take this further." 

Harvey's fingers still inside him, Mike blinks down at him. And then. There's a finger pushing gently at his bottom lip and he inhales deeply through his nose, the smell dark and rich and nearly too much when he meets Harvey's eyes.

"Open up."

And he does, without another word. Harvey's fingers slip into his mouth and it should be weird because all he tastes is the glove, the texture strange under his tongue, but it isn't. It isn't weird because Harvey's got fingers in him at both ends and he's never felt so fucking exposed and horny at the same time. So he pushes down against Harvey's fingers, groans around Harvey's fingers in his mouth, the following seconds a blur of sparking sensations, his pulse throbbing and his dick so heavy against his stomach it's a miracle he hasn't come just from how long he's been teased. 

"Look at you," Harvey says and from anyone else it would sound sneering, like an insult, but Harvey's voice has an edge to it and for the first time Mike thinks that probably Harvey's as eager to come as he is.

"You're perfect like this." Harvey says, fingers playing with Mike's tongue, caressing his inner walls and Mike moans, wet and low, the sound so filthy he can practically see his neighbours turn up their TVs. And Harvey's cock twitches against his thigh.

"Fuck." Harvey says and "Mike."

The fingers drop from his mouth, his own hands rushing up to fist into Harvey's hair, just to do that before he loses himself too much to remember what thinking is. Their mouths meet hot and hard. It's one of these kisses that no book tells you about. Messy and a bit painful. Too much jaw, teeth, tongue, hardly more than panting into someone else's mouth because it's that urgent. It's not good and it's not bad – it's toe-curlingly perfect.  
It takes a moment until they slow down, lips still parted, but the movements more controlled. Mike nips at Harvey's bottom lip and he thinks he could come like this, no problem. Then Harvey pulls out his fingers.

"What the hell?" Mike does not mean to whine but that fact doesn't change the sound of his voice.  
Harvey presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before he leans back. 

"Think you can stand up?"

No, Mike does not think he can. His knees are jelly and his dick is too hard and he doesn't ever want to leave Harvey's lap. But eventually he does and then he's happy he did, since Harvey gets up too, not even hesitating when he strips out of his boxers. Mike is so very very happy he got up. 

"Down here." Harvey maneuvers him to a clear spot on the floor and Mike doesn't even protest. He's not sure he could if he wanted to. Fuck Harvey and his voice and his gloves and...

"On your hands and knees."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

He takes another look at Harvey, his gaze drops and he swallows audibly. 

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." Harvey says sweetly and Mike groans.

"Are you kidding, why aren't you fucking me?" He rephrases and Harvey laughs, a good, warm sound that makes Mike's stomach twist until he's pushed down, and then he's merely heaving, head hung low between his shoulders and he's dizzy.

"What..."

His question is answered when fingers enter him again, only this time they are gloved and slick with his own spit and Mike gives a strangled sound and presses his palms flat to the ground.

"Y...you fucking..."

Harvey hushes him, presses another finger inside, the thick drag turning off some switch in Mike's brain that's responsible for language because what leaves him is a pathetic little moan-gasp that has no right to call itself a word. Even though it might be Harvey's name if anyone had that sort of romantic inclination.

"Mike." Harvey says after endless seconds and Mike stops sobbing in need at his own floor in favour of looking back over his shoulder. "I was asking if you've ever done this."

Harvey looks dishevelled to say the least. Part of Mike's really fucking proud of himself for accomplishing that, the rest is whining that stopping is bad. Very bad.

"If I say 'no', are you going to make a big deal out of it?"

Harvey sits back on his heels, looking like he's thinking. His fingers twist inside Mike and who the hell is moaning? Oh yeah. Right. That would be him.

"Yes," Harvey says and then, after considering Mike's attempt at a glare. "No. Is it a big deal?"

Mike grits his teeth: "I can only tell you that after you've put it inside."

Harvey rolls his eyes, but Mike sees that he's trying to hold back a laugh. 

"Seriously though, if you don't fuck me I'll complain to Jessica."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see that."

"I'll get you fired."

"You're aware that this is blackmail, Mike?"

"Are _you_ aware you could be inside me already?"

Harvey pulls out his fingers and reaches for the lube and a condom.

"Lose the rubber." Mike says, trying to make it conversational and Harvey nearly loses his balance for a second. 

"If we're doing this I don't want anything between us."

Harvey shakes his head and slicks himself up. The sound is enough to make Mike crane his neck more and catch a glimpse of Harvey's flesh appearing and disappearing in his fist. Fuck. He's so glad he answered the door.

"So drugs, blackmail, unsafe sex. Remind me why I only pretend-fired you?" Harvey has inched closer, guides himself between Mike's cheeks and it's impossible to see anything so Mike turns his head back to stare at the floor, focusing on breathing. 

"Because..." the head of Harvey's cocks presses to his entrance and Mike lets out a deep breath, feeling it slip in excruciatingly slow. "Because you... need me." he whispers and Harvey's hands curl around his hips.

Harvey moves slowly at first, the head stretching Mike wider than fingers did, his eyes fluttering close from the pulsing sensation he imagines to feel where his rim opens for Harvey. It's not exactly painful, but so far he doesn't get the big deal either. But then Harvey gives a groan, fingers digging into his hipbones and there's an impossibly low sound coming from Mike's lips when Harvey slides in fully, in one smooth thrust. Mike's heart is pounding and he seems to be trembling because Harvey leans over him and kisses his neck.

"Tell me if it's too much."

"You-uh'rre saying, that _now_?" 

Harvey chuckles, trails more kisses over his shoulders and starts pulling out again.

"Yes."

This time Mike's prepared for the glide and the way it shakes through him, which is good since Harvey's not holding back and he's nearly moved forward on the floor.

"Harvey, fuck!"

"Yes, I would think so."

Another sharp thrust and Mike's panting, his knees starting to feel sore. Speaking of sore...

"Ohgod!"

Harvey takes the hint and slows down enough to make Mike feel less like a bitch in heat and more like he's getting his brains fucked out by the hottest guy he knows. 

"Oh."

Harvey grunts as if in agreement, his arm slipping around Mike's waist, pulling him up so they're chest to back, skin clinging together with sweat.  
Mike considered gravity a pretty neat thing beforehand but now... well now, it's helping impaling him on Harvey's cock and that's good. Brilliant. Fucking amazing. He says as much and then some more, hands reaching behind him to bury themselves in Harvey's hair. They're moving together now, like this, deep and hard, and it's like Harvey's making space inside him that wasn't there before.

"Ffuck I love. Your cock." Mike hears himself babbling in a clear moment and he suspects not for the first time if Harvey's breathy laugh in his ear is any hint.

"Noted."

"Just. For the record." Mike lifts himself up and drops down again, making both of them moan, his hand tugging at Harvey's stupid hair and his own cock trailing wetness over his stomach. "I still like girls, too."

Harvey kisses the spot under his earlobe, reaches for his cock with his gloved hand and fucks up into him harder.

"We have so much in common."

"Harvey." Mike gasps. 

Between the hand stroking his dick and the dick stroking his insides, he's pretty damn proud of himself for finding language again. 

"Harvey." He says and turns his head to press a wet kiss to Harvey's neck.

"Harvey." He whimpers when Harvey takes that as an invitation to thrust up into him like there's no tomorrow. 

Okay so maybe this whole language thing is overrated anyway. And when Harvey's lips find his own it's meaningless anyway. They've got to look so indecent. His ass pushed into Harvey's crotch, arms still behind him to mess with his hair. Harvey's hand on his cock, the other on his chest, partly to keep him upright, but mostly to flick a thumb over his nipple because Mike jerks and cries out every time and Harvey seems to like that.

"God, Mike..." he's licking over Mike's lips, his fingers toying with the head of Mike's cock.

Mike squeezes his eyes shut, clenches around him, breath caught in his chest. Harvey moans like he's going to lose it and obviously that's all the encouragement Mike needs to do it again. And again. 

"Oh fffuck you." Harvey growls against his lips, the hand on him speeding up, bringing Mike closer to the edge with every second.

"You. First." Mike breathes, lips landing on Harvey's cheek, his breath leaving dampness. He's tightening his body again and he doesn't imagine how Harvey's cock twitches inside of him.

"Mike." 

His whole body is spun so tight, he's trembling from head to toe from both the effort to remain like this, move like this, and the intense goddamn pleasure that's building up inside of him, inevitably.

"H... Harvey, please."

He pushes up into the tightness of Harvey's fist, back down on his cock, his skin growing tighter by the second. Harvey grunts, his chest pressed to Mike's back and it's hot, so fucking hot.

"I I can't." 

Harvey drives into him, hard enough to make him see stars, Mike clenches and then he can't find words anymore because he's coming. All over Harvey's gloves, his own chest, coming with a cry of Harvey's name and Harvey's teeth sink into his shoulder as he follows.  
They still move through aftershocks, the slickness inside him now less the lube and more just Harvey, and that thought should probably not make him giddy but there you go. 

"Jesus, Mike." Harvey murmurs against his skin eventually.

Mike's starting to become very aware of the way they stick together, how they're sticky everywhere, even more so when Harvey's hand slides from his cock up over his chest, smearing the mess everywhere, up to his lips and Mike can just so snort "pervert" before he's got a finger in his mouth again.

"What do you say we leave this heating hell and call the Orsons on the way to my storm-proof apartment to rain check on that appointment, mm?"

Mike waits until the finger is removed and he makes himself go tense around Harvey's cock because payback is a bitch. And he might or might not like the sound Harvey makes.

"I've got a better idea. You call them now and then we can---"

"If you say play naked hide and seek, I will punch you."

Mike tilts his head back to look at Harvey and he's looking brilliant and gorgeous and kinda composed for someone who's still inside of him.

"I was gonna say have naked shower sex but you're the boss."

"I hate you." Harvey says, brushing a kiss to his lips and Mike sighs in contentment.

"No, you don't."

 

**The End**


End file.
